


Where Shadows Will Fall

by Juliette1713



Category: Northern Exposure
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-27
Updated: 2019-08-27
Packaged: 2020-08-14 14:14:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliette1713/pseuds/Juliette1713
Summary: A well-worn literary trope to fix the shame of Rabbi Shulman never getting to meet Maggie (and vice versa)...apologies to Dickens' A Christmas Carol.Set somewhere late season 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Men's courses will foreshadow certain ends, to which, if persevered in, they must lead...but if the courses be departed from, the ends will change."

Maggie woke with a start at the sound of something falling in her living room. It was moments like this, living alone, that she wished she had a pet - something more raucous than the goldfish - to create a plausible source of bumps in the night. As it was, since she was alone, she'd have to get up and investigate. Even if Joel had been there, she'd probably still have been the one to have to investigate. Not that she could say for sure from experience, but she had a good feeling he wasn't the type to go face danger head on - nor was she the damsel in distress kind of woman who'd let him.

They'd been dating - or whatever it was - for two months now, so surely it was just a matter of time now that he'd end up staying over. She'd never asked him, though, nor had he ever asked her to stay with him - their usual game of each trying to outwait the other by being the last to admit they wanted more. It was the same thing that delayed the start of their relationship by years and the collective fault they had which seemed to doom them to slow progress at every step of the way.

The truth of it was, she did want him to spend the night. For one thing, it seemed ridiculous, particularly once they'd already gone to bed together, not to stay in it for the night. He also looked sweetly comfortable laying next to her sometimes, smiling sleepily at her with languid, adoring eyes and mussed hair. She wanted to fall asleep next to him and to have him there beside her when she woke. In fact, in most ways, she wanted more from this - from him - than she felt comfortable admitting. More than she had wanted from anyone before him. She told herself it was just her internal psychological manifestation of society's expectations for a woman in her 30s, but deep down she knew enough to know it stemmed from feelings she wasn't experienced with navigating. In fact, it was a very specific feeling - a word she wasn't accustomed to using. And she wasn't about to say it to him, of all people, unless she knew for sure he felt it, too.

She didn't even want to put herself out there by bringing up staying the night, and neither, apparently, did he. Another war of attrition between them. They'd laid together talking for hours tonight, but he'd gotten dressed and gone home at 11:30, after a long, lingering kiss in the freezing air under her porch light. It was clear neither one of them wanted him to leave, but they wanted even less to be the first to say it. That stubbornness was why she was alone now with whatever was in her living room at 2:44 am.

She still heard rustling and then footsteps, and she knew she couldn't continue ignoring that something was out there. Feeling annoyed more than afraid, she rose from bed, pulled on her robe, and slung her shotgun across her back before creeping out her bedroom door.

She peeked around the corner into her living room from the hallway and saw the silhouette of someone - a man, it looked like - standing at her bookshelf, rifling amongst her things. Depsite the trust fund, she hardly ever spent money and consequently owned nothing that was terribly valuable or worth stealing. For a moment, she considered just getting back in bed, knowing no knick knack of hers was worth the loss of an hour's sleep. Instead, she sighed and swung her shotgun down and into her hands as she flipped the light switch on with one elbow, flooding her room with sudden light. 

"Ow!" And older male's voice broke through the silence of the night. "You might have warned me before you blinded me like that."

The unfamiliar voice caused her to tighten her grip on the gun. "Get your hands off of whatever they're on and turn around slowly. I should warn you I'm armed. And a hell of a good shot. Especially at close range."

The intruder turned slowly, eyes squinting and palms raised and facing outward, revealing a portly older man with graying hair - what of it was left below the crown of his head and near his temples. He was dressed in a neatly pressed gray suit and maroon tie with matching pocket square. A well-dressed burglar, at least. 

"I'm sorry, dear; I didn't mean to startle you into brandishing a weapon. I was just trying to determine if I'm in the right place. Truly, I mean you no harm." The older man chuckled genially. Something was familiar about his slight accent and elocution - almost like a grandfatherly, unacerbic version of Joel. "I have heard that Alaskans have a strangely close relationship with their firearms." His eyes - dark and kind-looking - fully opened, finally adjusted to the light as took the sight of Maggie in and smiled. "You're a tiny little wisp of a thing, aren't you; that gun's as big as you are."

"Who in the hell are you?"

"An old friend of Joel's. He was here earlier tonight. This isn't his home, is it?"

"No. It's mine." The gun didn't seem to be having much of an effect, so Maggie put its safety back on and let it fall back along her back, hanging from its strap again. Near at hand, but not quite as overtly menacing. "And do you mean Fleischman? You know him?"

"Do I know little Joey Fleischman?" His face broke into a wide smile. "Just since the day he was born! The only son of Herb and Nadine. Their precocious, talkative, opinionated pride and joy. Estelle's favorite grandson. Granted, her only grandson... Brilliant young man. First in his class at Bronx Science, I'm sure he's told you - even with skipping two grades. Track star. Columbia grad. Chemistry major. Fulfilling his destiny now as a doctor in Alaska."

"Yeah, that's him. Mostly. Minus the track star bit. He's as unathletic as they come."

"Are you certain of that, young lady? He's an impressive long distance runner. Ever since he was a teenager. And a rower, too, come to think of it. In college, at least. He's adjusted to life in Alaska, then? Camping and hiking and such nowadays?"

"No," she said, unable to keep from smiling. "Fleischman? Hardly. He may be smart, and he's definitely opinionated, but he's no more outdoorsy than he is athletic. And he hates it here."

"He doesn't. And I promise you - he's an excellent runner." The man took a few steps towards Maggie's easy chair and settled into it, making a face as he did. No one liked that chair but she and Joel. "Ask him about it sometime."

Maggie followed him into her living room and stood next to her coffee table, letting the sudden change in their relative heights be her new advantage, with the gun now resting on her back. "I'd really rather stick to what you're doing in my living room at three o'clock in the morning."

"Trying to determine if you are who I'm looking for." The man leaned forward, putting his elbows to his knees and looking up at her curiously. "But perhaps you're not. You call Joel by his last name?"

"Always have," Maggie said, feeling suddenly defensive. "He's the same way with me."

"Interesting..."

"Why? What, do you think that means we're somehow trying to maintain some kind of artificial emotional distance from each other?"

He raised an eyebrow at her. "_Are_ you?"

"I'm not big on discussing my private life with anyone, let alone with an elderly burglar - even one who can recite Fleischman's biography. Oh, wait...I get it. He put you up to this, didn't he? To prove his point about locking my door at night. He did, I know it. Oh, I could strangle him for this! Just tell me now, so I can start plotting my revenge."

"It is you! You're the one." He sat forward in the chair to study her, a thoughtful look in his eye.

"The one what?"

"_The_ one. Joel's one. You're the one that caused the breakup with Elaine. The wealthy one, from Michigan. The pilot."

Maggie felt her jaw drop indignantly as she struggled to know where to start. "First off, *she* dumped him. By mail, I might add. After 13 years! Which is not only impolite but inexpedient, in addition to being crass and callous, considering they were engaged for as long as they were. And second, I was not only not involved in any of that but I was not a even a passing thought in his mind during the time that they were together. I mean, yeah, there was that night with the wine, but that was... And anyway, third, my net worth isn't remotely your business. Or his. Especially his. Nor is it a defining characteristic of mine. Fourth, he and I might be...whatever it is now, but I am not 'his' and what's more you don't know me any more than I know you which is not at all. So we are not discussing him, me, us, or anything else until you tell me who _you_ are and why you're here. Now."

The older man smiled even more broadly. "Yup, you're her all right. 'Feisty' is underselling it, too, if you ask me. You must give him fits with as stoic and as structured as he likes to be."

"Who are you?"

"I'm his rabbi. Rabbi Shulman. It's a delight to meet you at long last."

"You're his rabbi?"

"Indeed."

"We're in the middle of Alaska. There aren't any rabbis."

"Well. I'm here. And there's a temple in Anchorage."

"I know. Two of them, actually. And another in Juneau. None of which he attends."

"I couldn't trouble you for a cup of coffee, could I? The time change between where we are and where I came from is exhausting, if you don't mind my saying so. Not to mention the journey I have yet ahead of me."

Maggie rolled her eyes and entered her kitchen, propping her gun against the refrigerator before snapping the switch on the coffee maker to start it brewing, hours early. 

"He's never even been to a temple out here. Fleischman. Joel. Ever. Believe me, I'd have been the one to fly him. And I've offered - for holidays and...whatever else. He's never gone. So you're hardly his rabbi."

"I am. I'm from New York, not Alaska. Like I said, I've known him his whole life. Even so, I try to stay current, informed of his goings-on, so even if he's far from me, I'm never terribly far from him."

Maggie nodded her head several times, absorbing his words without really listening. She suddenly walked to the telephone and dialed it, maintaining eye contact with the rabbi throughout. "We'll see about that." He picked up on the fourth ring.

"Hey, Fleischman...oh, about 3 am...yeah, I'm fine....No, I just had a question for ya...Really, no - I'm fine, I promise. I was wondering....well, I _hope_ you were asleep, it's the middle of the night! Anyway, I was...Fleischman! Stop. I don't care if I woke you up, this is important - I need to ask you something right now....yeah. What was the name of the temple you attended back home? And the name of the rabbi there? ...Yes, I'm serious... No, it can't wait. I'll explain it later. Just give me the name...okay, and the rabbi's? ...Thanks...Nope, that's it. ....I told you, I'd tell you later. I have to go. Sweet dreams, though. I had fun tonight. Last night. Whatever it was. Oh! Oh, wait. Fleischman? Before you hang up - and this is going to sound strange, too, but you didn't, by chance, do track in high school or anything did you? ...Yeah, track. Like, running. ...You _did_?!...Huh. I can't picture that. Were you any good at it? ..._Really_!? You've never said anything. ...No kidding? Well, okay. That settles that, I guess. Well, 'night."

"He said Rabbi Shulman, didn't he?" The rabbi was smirking a little when Maggie turned back around after putting the handset in its cradle before heading back into her kitchen. 

"I can't believe he runs. And is good at it," she said, opening a cabinet and taking out an old Grosse Pointe Country Club mug to fill. "He said he was an alternate on the all-district team for the 10,000 at 16."

"I told you so." She held up her sugar bowl, and he shook his head. "Black is fine."

"It's not like they were probably desperate to fill a roster or anything, either - Queens is pretty densely populated..."

"It is. He's fast. Like I told you. Do you believe me now?"

"Not really. What's the name of the temple? Yours and his. Allegedly."

"Beth Shalom."

"How do I know that's not just a lucky guess? That's a really common name for synagogues."

"Of course it is; it means 'House of Peace'. Originality isn't really required when naming places of worship. I know you believe me now, so can we move on to another topic? The reason I'm here, perhaps?"

"Fine. Tell me why you're in my living room in the dead of the night," she handed him the filled mug and sat on the couch to his left, propping her socked feet on top of her coffee table.

"You and Joel are going to make a terrible mistake."

"Both of us? Together?"

"Yes." The rabbi took a long sip of coffee and set the mug onto a coaster on her coffee table. "Ah. Thank you for the coffee. Yes, you're both on the path to disaster. Because you're infinitesimally less stubborn than he is, I came to you first. I think you're the one with the power to fix it."

"Well, what is 'it'? What do we do that's so wrong?"

"That's not how this works, dear. True learning doesn't come from being told. It comes from experience. Living the lesson. Seeing it unfold first hand." He took another sip of coffee, rose, and walked to her door, pausing there a moment before turning back to look at her. "Come along."

Maggie laughed in response. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

"Why not?"

"Where do I even start? Well, first, because you're a stranger to me and an intruder on top of that. You're obviously crazy. And it's the middle of the night and there is nowhere we can go. It's still the waning winter season in Alaska, and I have no shoes on."

"Put them on, then. And a coat and hat. I have several destinations in mind for us this evening. Far be it from me to rush a woman through dressing, but we're behind schedule as it is, so I'd appreciate it if you got going quickly. Joel has vouched for my existence. We're hardly strangers from each other now. Now that I know you're her, I can assure you that I know you quite well."

"Oh, do you?"

"Mary Margaret O'Connell of Grosse Pointe, Michigan. Maggie, you go by. Except with your parents...and Joel, it appears. You're 31 years old, but don't look a day past 23." He paused after his compliment and smiled ingratiating as she rolled her eyes in response, trying to force a smile off her face. He was charming in his own way, and she was finding it difficult to be cross or short with him.

"The youngest daughter of Jane and Frank O'Connell, who are recently divorced. Your older brother, Jeffrey, is also recently divorced and lives quite near to your mother still. Investment banker. You got better grades, though. Graduated with honors from the University of Michigan in 1984, earning a degree in business administration, just like him and your father - although you tell everyone you studied English literature. You also earned a minor in French. You studied another year after that at the Sorbonne in Paris before attending law school, also at Michigan, for a year and then moving to Alaska in 1986. You own three houses here in town and your own plane. You pretend to hate cooking but love doing it and make perfect pies. You're terrified of snakes and lizards - something else you keep a very tight lid on. Luckily, there aren't any in central Alaska, making it an easy secret for you to keep. You have but one pet, a little goldfish named Jack. Who is actually a female. Not that it matters. And you make a lovely cup of coffee. Even in the middle of the night."

Maggie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I never told Fleischman about law school. No one knows that. Or about my major. Or the snake thing." She reached over the edge of her couch for the hiking boots resting there, pulled one on, and started to lace it, despite her better judgment.

"Good, you're getting dressed. Like I said, I know you quite well. And I'll reserve comment about what a strangely specific lie it is to tell people that your business degree was English lit. We'd better get going, though. We can talk as we go along."

"Have you done this to Fleischman before, too?" She finished lacing the second boot and stood up. "He doesn't believe in this kind of stuff."

"No, he doesnt. And not recently, I haven't. As I said, I'm relying on you to fix the situation this time. But regardless of what he may have neglected to tell you or what he may claim to you in the future if you ask, I have visited him several times in this way over the years. You can imagine how it's gone." He chuckled to himself. "He thinks it's a sign he's going crazy. And as long as he learns the lesson I'm teaching, I don't really care. Plus, it's fun to rock his boat sometimes. As you know."

She smiled in reponse. There was just something about this man that felt warm and welcoming to her in a way that made it easier than it really should have been to forget they met when he broke into her house late at night. And that he wanted her to follow him now to God knows where.

"Well, shall we?"

He opened and walked through her front door and paused there waiting for her. After a moment's hesitation, she followed him.


	2. Chapter 2

"We're in my old cabin! How'd you do that?"

Maggie had followed the rabbi through the door which had somehow led her right through the front door of, and into, her old house.

"So you know this place, then? Good. We're on the right track."

"Oh, I loved this house," Maggie said, turning slowly, smiling and taking in the long-distant but still familiar sights of her old living room. "First place I bought with my own money. Not the money from the trust, but the money I actually earned myself, flying. I saved for three years to buy this house. Oh! And my old piano..."

"If you liked it, why did you move?"

"Oh, my mom burned it down," Maggie said mildly, distracted, without seeing the rabbi's shocked reaction before they were interrupted by the sound of her own voice.

"You didn't think he was a pompous, insufferable jerk?"

"I told you. He seemed okay. Anyway, he's entitled to be a full of himself - he's a doctor."

Maggie stared in surprise as she watched herself, but with shorter hair, enter her living room and head to her stereo, only to be followed in a minute later by Rick. She was wearing a red plaid shirt she'd tied at her waist - another thing she'd loved that had been lost at the hands of her mom's incident. 

"Oh big deal. Mark my words; he won't last 2 months here. I can't believe you don't have more of an opinion about this. You talked to him that morning - what did you two do after I left?"

"I don't know, Maggie. How many times can we discuss this? I gave him the keys to your truck like you told me to and a piece of my toast 'cause he asked for one. He took off about 2 minutes after that. Anyway, it was 3 weeks ago." 

Music filled the room as Maggie watched herself stand and walk over to sit in the armchair in her old living room, right in front of where she and the rabbi stood watching the scene. 

"They don't see us, right?"

"They don't. No."

The younger Maggie folded her legs under her and sat forward in her chair. "Well, didn't he wonder how he'd gotten here?"

"Here where?"

"To my house. That morning."

"_Our_ house." Maggie watched her younger self roll her eyes in reponse to Rick's muttered correction; he'd been so sensitive about that topic, despite never paying a dime towards anything. "And no, he didn't seem to. Seemed a lot more worried that he'd accidentally slept with you." Rick picked up a magazine from the coffee table and started leafing through it. 

Still observing in amazement, Maggie left the rabbi's side and made her way across her old living room to sit across from herself and next to Rick on the couch. She could hardly look away from her younger self, suddenly remembering this series of conversations, just after Joel had first moved to Cicely.

Maggie watched herself try to look shocked but be unable to hide a growing smile. "What?! He thought we'd slept together that night? How arrogant can someone possibly be? You never told me that!"

"Must have forgot."

"He's engaged!"

"Probably why he was so worried about it, then." Rick paused in his page-flipping and looked up, "Hey, look, after dinner, do you want to..."

"Wait, did he actually _tell_ you he thought he slept with me? Or did you just think he thought he did from how he was acting?" She looked at her figure, sitting in the chair opposite her - leaning forward, eyes were sparkling, totally impervious to Rick's abject disinterest. Was this how she used to look and act? She seemed so immature. Confrontational. And incredibly unsubtle...

"Maggie, who cares?" Rick's voice sounded weary and disinterested, even for him, his eyes back on the magazine. "I am done talking about Dr. Fleischman."

"But this is new information!" She saw herself grin in response to his growing irritation. "Oh, I get it. You're jealous, aren't you? It's that night, isn't it? I told you, it was one dinner. One bottle of wine. Once. It meant nothing. And nothing happened. He's a jerk. And engaged. I actually met his fiancee this weekend, though. She's surprisingly normal and nice."

"That's great for him. Bet she loved you." Rick's voice had a growing tone of sarcasm, before he laughed, looking genuinely amused by what she'd said that he finally heard. "Did you call me jealous? You're just funny, that's all. You get these one-sided crushes on guys who couldn't possibly be a tenth as interested in you as you are in them. And then you embarrass yourself by fixating on them like this. You really need another hobby, Mag."

"You _are_ jealous." She watched her younger self stand up and move to the couch. She perched herself on Rick's lap, tossing his magazine to the floor, and gave him little hug. From where she sat, Maggie was able to see him roll his eyes and make a face over her shoulder into the empty living room as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed his ear. "Aw, Ricky...you know I've only for eyes for you, honey." Her voice was as patronizing as the look on his face. Only one of them was play-acting, though.

Maggie felt her cheeks start to burn and then, all at once, the scene changed around them - her old, familiar cabin disappearing, replaced by a crowded room she didn't recognize, where she was seated at a table.

"Hey, I was watching that!"

"He meant it, you realize? He wasn't actually jealous." 

"Of course he was," she said defensively. "He was always jealous of other guys. You heard it in his voice, just then...wait, where the hell are we now?"

"Hotel bar. In Anchorage. The day after that conversation."

The room came into view and was indeed a hotel bar, and one she vaguely recognized. The ritzy old one, at 4th and E downtown. She'd stayed there a couple of times - and once on a weekend away with Rick. She stood and looked around for the two of them before she saw Rick. But not her. At the moment, he was busy kissing a thin, long haired brunette against the end of the bar. 

"He cheated on me!? I mean, I know he did sometimes, but...but...the very next _day_ he cheated?! What, because I went on and on about Fleischman the night before? Is that your point? And you say he wasn't jealous - well, what do you call that?"

"I call that a man who didn't care enough about you to be jealous." The rabbi was regarding her with serious, sympathetic eyes. "What you're seeing had nothing to do with Joel. What you never understood - and still don't apparently - is why he was able to cheat so easily. And often."

"He travelled a lot..."

"I don't mean why the logistics weren't difficult for him to navigate."

"So, what, I'm supposed to get mad at Rick all over again? This was years ago. And I thought this visit of yours was about Fleischman and I?"

"It is." 

Suddenly, the scenery around them changed again, to another bar this time, loud and smoke-filled and packed with people.

"Oh God. I know Rick cheated. A lot. I admit it, okay? Are you really gonna show me every single time it happened?"

"No," he said. "This is that same night. But in another bar." He gestured to a booth where a fashionably dressed dark-haired woman in her mid twenties was sitting alone, checking her eye makeup with a small mirror compact. The table top was covered in scattered brown beer bottles - roughly a dozen in all, while the girl studied her eyeliner critically.

"I have no idea who that girl is. Should I?"

"Let's just say she's a friend of a friend...of a friend..."

Maggie felt something brush past her, which turned out to be two giggling women. One had shoulder-length dark blonde hair ("dirty" blonde, her mother had always pejoratively termed it - a bottle blonde herself with no room to be judgmental, not that that ever stopped her.) The other had slightly curly light brown hair that hung down her back in a ponytail. Her face was buried against her friend's shoulder as they fell into the bench opposite their friend, still giggling.

"You shouldn't have made me do that, you know."

"Dare's a dare, and he's gorgeous. He's liked you since 1L contracts, too. And just because you have his number doesn't mean you have to call him."

"He wrote it on my arm, Laura," came a still-laughing voice. "In huge letters. In permanent ink." She straightened up to sit, still smiling, and revealing her forearm to the table. It was Elaine. Joel's Elaine. Her demeanor suddenly became decidedly less ebullient than her friends'. "I have to get this off of here...I can't walk around with someone's number all over my arm."

"Don't start down that path again. Elaine, he's 4,000 miles away."

"3,681." Elaine reached for the bottle in front of her, finished the dregs in one sip, and set it back on the table with a hollow plunk.

"I thought you had the hots for your boss anyway," came the voice of the eyeliner girl as she clicked closed the compact and stowed it in her purse.

"Dwight?" Elaine smiled. "He's not really my boss. The judicial interns technically report to Justice Black. She's my boss. Until December, anyway."

"Notice she was quick to tell us he's not her boss. But she didn't say a word about having the hots for him..."

"Shut up. It's not like that. Dwight's just...nice. That's all..." Elaine was picking at a corner of the label, having peeled the opposite corner a few inches in before it started to tear.

"Yeah, but does he look like Mr. Permanent Marker over there?"

"He has a name." Elaine smiled to herself. "And he is pretty cute. And nice. You guys think I should go after Bruce, huh?"

Eyeliner girl gave Elaine a withering look. "Elaine, you _know_ what we think. You like him. He likes you. He's liked you since last year. He's been watching you all night. And there's a reason you wore that skirt tonight. You deserve a little fun. You're miserable. And you are 27 years old, and you've never been with anyone other than your high school boyfriend..."

"...which is why you're miserable..." Laura added.

"Joel, who is probably at this very minute curled up asleep in bed with Megan," chimed the dark-haired girl. 

"_Maggie_," Elaine corrected in a measured voice, finally picking free the corner of the label and peeling it slowly away from the glass. "And it's only 7:30 out there. Even he doesn't go to bed _that_ early. Well, maybe if he's still sick..."

"He does if he's not alone."

"Oh, come on. He wouldn't."

"Elaine. Tell me you don't think Joel's been faithful all this time. You're trusting, sure, but not stupid."

"He's a good guy, Laur. He wouldn't cheat on me."

"When is the last time you talked to him and that pilot chick didn't come up?" interjected eyeliner girl. "You flew all the way out there to see him, and all you did was fight about her. For three days! You came back miserable."

"Well, I got the flu..."

"And what happened when you called him last night when you got home? When he was supposed to be home in bed sick?"

"He _was_ home. He was on his couch. And he was still sick. And alone."

"But she'd been there that night. Again."

"Which he told me. Which he wouldn't have done if he was cheating."

"Uh huh," came the disbelieving reply. "You said she was pretty. And he spends a lot of time with her..."

"It's a small town, what else is he going to do?" Elaine peeled the label clean off the bottle, holding it up victoriously, smiling. 

The darker haired girl jumped in as Elaine's voice trailed off. "You're not going to keep making excuses for him and stay in this miserable relationship, are you?"

"No. Look, I know he's not cheating, but he does like her. Too much. And they just met a few weeks ago. Meanwhile, he and I don't...I don't know. We don't click anymore. Something's changed. I know that. I think he knows it, too, after this weekend. Or he should. And I know I need to break if off with him, I do. It's just..."

"We know, we know. He's a nice guy..." Eyeliner girl's voice had a gentle, mocking tone, as if she'd heard this often.

"...and your parents are old friends...." The blonde chimed in, and soon they were alternating quoting excuses Elaine had clearly offered up many times before on this topic.

"... and you've been together forever..."

"...and he wouldn't see it coming..."

"...and you just need a little more time..."

"...and you'd be compounding his misery, dumping him when he's stuck out in Alaska..."

"What's in Alaska?" Came a male voice from behind Maggie.

Eyeliner girl looked up quickly and smiled. "Elaine's ex."

"You guys broke up this weekend?" A dark-haired man with green eyes and chiseled features now stood at the edge of the table. Elaine's friends' eyes met in a silent conversation.

"Hey, Laur, we should take off. I'm up tomorrow in real property and still haven't read the case." She raised her eyebrows at the girl sitting next to Elaine and stood up.

"Yeah, it's late." Laura slid out of the booth to join her as Elaine tossed them both a mock-annoyed look. 

"You girls sure? I didn't mean to interrupt your night..." His apology was directed to the whole table, but his eyes were fixed on Elaine's.

"Definitely," the darker hair girl said as she slid out of her side to join the blonde who was already on her feet. "Promise us you'll keep her company for us, Bruce? And make sure she gets home okay later? Show her a nice time, too, will ya? She's nursing a heartbreak, poor thing." 

"Sure," he said, smiling warmly and slipping into the booth across from Elaine. "Gosh, I'm really sorry to hear about you guys. You doing okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine. Was a long time coming." She tilted her head up, watching her retreating friends. "Bye girls."

"Bye!" They shouted back to her without turning around as they walked towards the door. Maggie and the rabbi followed them, and she looked at him in disbelief.

"They fought about me?"

"Endlessly. He never mentioned it?"

"No. She seemed so nice. So reasonable. At least that visit. And nothing was going on between us."

"She is nice. I've known her since the day she was born, just like Joel. Sweet girl. Smart. Kind. Patient. But probably too patient. They were both a little complacent when it came to their relationship. Happens sometimes when you fall for someone at 15 years old. And resist change. Fiercely."

"Hey! Wait a sec. Laur?" Elaine was politely pushing her way through the crowd towards the girls, who were now near the door.

"Oh...tell me you didn't just leave him at that table all alone," the girl with the eyeliner scolded. "Elaine! He wants you. He's a fox. You and Joel are history. Live a little for once."

"I know." Elaine reached forward with her hand, looking sheepishly at the blonde. "I decided I'm going to. Just...can you take this home for me and put it in my drawer? I can't wear Joey's ring if I'm going to do what I think we're going to do."

The blonde girl smiled and took the ring and put it in her pocket. "That's my girl. Now, be safe. Have a fun night. And call me tomorrow, okay?" She hooked her arm through her friend's and continued towards the exit.

"We want details!" Eyeliner girl added over her shoulder, causing the two to giggle again as they pushed their way to and through the door. Elaine smiled, blushing, putting her fingers to feel where her ring had been as she turned to walk back to the table.

The rabbi kept walking towards the door as Maggie followed.

"She cheated on him?"

"You sound surprised. You know she started something with that Dwight she's talking about, right? And that that also happened before she and Joel broke up."

They passed through the open door of the bar into the New York night, turning to walk along the sidewalk. "Yeah, but...I didn't know she slept with someone else, too, on top of that. Right after she came out to visit? Poor Fleischman..."

"She and Bruce dated each other for a few weeks - before everything began in earnest between her and her late husband."

"He never said. Fleischman, that is."

"He didn't know. Still doesn't know."

"How do _you_ know, then?"

"It's my duty to tend to my flock. The point of our journey isn't tittle-tattle, though. Elaine and Joel fell out of love somewhere along the way. Only when they put distance between themselves did she finally realize it. And act on it. That's what I brought you here to see tonight."

"Why, because she blamed me?"

"Her friends blamed you. And blamed Joel. She knew, deep down, that it had ended. Long before she had the courage to tell him. And he knew, too. It just took him longer to realize. He's much more reluctant to let go. Or instigate change."

They walked together down the sidewalk which lit up intermittently with the bright headlights of the passing cabs.

"This is interesting and all of that, but, what does this have to do with Fleischman and me? So we both got cheated on more often than we realized? And it happened once on the same night, on opposite sides of the continent?"

"No, you're missing the point entirely. I'm showing you this to illustrate your respective natures, and what happens because of them. Rick wanted out and let himself out. So did Elaine. You and Joel wanted out, too, but you were each of you too passive to do anything about it. You both just let things happen to you."

"This was four years ago! We were kids still. I mean, did you see me with Rick before? I was practically a teenager. And Fleischman's even less mature than I am. Especially when he first moved here." 

"You both still avoid difficult topics, especially intimacy, and neither of you stand up for what you really want."

"Hardly."

The older man raised an eyebrow at her in response before stopping at a door and reaching for its handle.

"Store's probably closed," Maggie said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable again, contemplating entering an unknown place in an unknown city in the dark of the night. "The lights are off."

"Not if you have the magic touch." The handle turned and the door cracked open, and the rabbi turned to smile at her. "After you, my dear."


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, I get it now," Maggie said, as the doorway led them back through that of her present-day cabin. "You're Jacob Marley to my Ebenezer, and taking me on a tour of my dating past. Very Dickensian of you."

"And you only pretend you majored in English lit."

"God bless us every one," she said in a saccharine tone, turning to him and smiling. "So that's all I needed to see? We're back home."

The rabbi gestured to Maggie's couch where she and Joel were sitting close and laughing. Two empty snifter glasses sat nearby on her coffee table. She and Joel were turned slightly toward each other on the couch. She had one ankle tucked underneath her, and his hand was resting on her knee. She smiled at the scene, in spite of herself.

"Oh...I remember this. This was just a few weeks ago. Our fourth date, right?"

"Fifth."

"What did do wrong here? This was a great night. Granted, we're both a little drunk, but there are worse sins. You and I just observed several first-hand in those bars."

"You're hardly drunk. Maybe softened a little. Joel's blushing. And giggling here and there. Which I don't think I've ever seen him do. You look like you're having fun together, at least."

She smiled, feeling a fondness welling up inside of her, thinking of the two of them. "We are. We do. I wouldn't have believed it either, but we do. When we're not arguing, that is. Well, even that's kinda fun in its own way..." She trailed off as she walked into her living room to sit in the chair next to her couch. "You know, this is like having the strangest version of deja vu I've ever experienced." 

"Fleischman, that's not even true and you know it," came her voice from the couch. She was still laughing and her voice had a flirtatious, playful tone to it that she rarely used around him, at least until recently.

"It is so. Honest." He tried to look serious, but his face broke into a grin and he started laughing again.

She started laughing again in response, leaning forward further to rest one hand against his chest and her forehead to his shoulder. His laughter slowed as he processed her proximity more fully before he gingerly rested his hand on her shoulder. She straightened up, her laugh fading.

His eyes locked onto hers as she sat the rest of the way back up, still leaning well inside his orbit with her hand resting on his shoulder. The room felt suddenly very silent - more than either could stand for more than a few seconds. Maggie spoke first. "What?"

"What what?"

"It's very quiet all of a sudden. And you're looking at me funny. What are you thinking about right now?"

"Just...you know." He shrugged at her, still smiling. 

"I don't. Why would I have asked if I did?"

"I..." He blushed again and shook his head, breaking eye contact, running one hand nervously through his hair. "You look really pretty tonight. That's all. Not that you don't normally, but...well, moreso right now. You know what I mean."

"Oh..." she said, sliding her hand across his shoulder to playfully flip the corner of his collar up and down with her fingertips. "Well, thanks, Fleischman. You're kinda cute yourself after a glass of cognac."

"I am?" His eyes met hers again, and he smiled, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

"Oh yeah," she slid her finger down the fabric of his collar and popped open the topmost button. "And before one, too."

His eyes dropped to his collar, where she was now tracing her fingertip along his skin inside his opened collar. His eyes met hers again, looking uncertain, as he tried to maintain a light tone. "Are you hitting on me right now, O'Connell?"

"Yes."

"Well. Okay." He gave her a half-grin and moved his hand to cradle her face, tilting it up gently.

"He's going to kiss me in about 3 seconds," she said.

"I can see that."

"And you wanna watch anyway? That feels a little perverse. I can take it if you can, though. He _is_ great kisser."

"I don't need to know that about him."

As she talked over her shoulder to the rabbi standing just behind her, her eyes were fixed on Joel as he leaned in and brushed his lips lightly and uncertainly against the lips of the Maggie on the couch. She saw herself lean forward into his kiss, at which he kissed her much more enthusiastically, weaving his fingers through her hair while pulling her closer with the other hand still on her shoulder. She responded by putting one knee on either side of his and settling onto his lap. 

"Subtle," chucked the rabbi.

"Subtle wasn't getting us anywhere. One of us had to do something. He never picked up on my signals."

"He can't. He's a literalist. You know that by now. Or should. That, and he's trying to...well, you'll see. It's why we're watching this now, voyeuristic as it is. For what comes next. I'm not sure you understood the first time."

"I'm enjoying this, myself," Maggie smirked, eyes still on the scene.

While they kissed, the hand not in Maggie's hair kept its station on her shoulder. She watched herself get frustrated, put her hand to his, pull it to her waist, and then push it back up underneath her shirt.

"O'Connell!" He pulled back from their kiss. "I hardly need your help in...doing that."

"Then why haven't you? It's, what, our 5th date? I had a middle school boyfriend who was more interested in groping me than you are. He and his boyfriend raise purebred dogs together now on a farm outside Kalamazoo."

"Hey, I'm interested! Very. I just thought you wanted to take things slow."

"Why would you think a thing like that?" She sat back on his knees, her hands still on his shoulders. 

"Because you kicked me out when I tried to kiss you on our first date."

"That was the bug thing!"

"Yeah, well, even so, maybe it wasn't a terrible idea to take our time with this..."

"Why? You're hardly timid. Or chaste. We've ripped each other's clothes off and had sex on the dirt floor of a barn. Several times. What happened to moving slow then?"

"That was different. That was the wind. Supposedly. This is us dating. I was trying to be...I don't know...something." The hand in her hair had drifted the top button of her shirt, which he was fidgeting with to avoid her eye. She could see from across the room that he was blushing again, too, which she hadn't noticed the other night, and which she found incredibly endearing. 

"Okay. Then you do 'something', and I'll do this and we'll see who outlasts the other one." She hooked her finger into his open collar and popped open a second button. 

"O'Connell!"

"What? I can't be the only one of us who finds your virtuosity frustrating."

"Virtuousness," he corrected her automatically.

"Fleischman!"

"Sorry. I know. Not helpful."

"Do you really not want to -"

"No, no. I do. O'Connell, I really, really, _really_ do. Believe me. It's just..."

She heard her voice soften as she asked, "What are you struggling so much with saying right now?"

"I'm trying to tell you that...this isn't just sex for me..." He braved looking up at her, his face almost wincing in anticipation of her response.

"I hope not - we're years away from actual sex, at the pace you're going."

"O'Connell..."

"Sorry. Just say what you want to say, okay?" She put her hand to his cheek. "I'm listening. I'll be good now. I promise."

"It's just...I have wanted this - wanted you - for so long, I don't want to screw it up. And the reason why is, for as much as you make me crazy, you might kind of..." he paused, shrugging as if there were no better word than the one he was just now settling on, "well, mean something to me, too."

"Oh. _Oh_. Well, Fleischman... that's sweet. And this is more to me than sex, too. Really. You've been great these last two weeks. Polite. Funny. On your best behavior. I am duly - and unexpectedly - charmed by you. And happy." She kissed him gently and then pulled her face back to look at him. "But you're killing me, Fleischman."

"Why?"

She leaned forward, settling herself back against his hips and pressing her chest against his, putting her lips to his ear. "Because every time you leave early, I have to take a cold shower after you go."

"You do?!"

"Look, there is no reason this can't be both about the feelings and the physical. Now that we've gotten the first thing discussed and out of the way, couldn't you at least consider the physical thing? We've been doing this for awhile now..." She started trailing kisses down his neck, and his eyes closed enjoying the sensation as his breath growing ragged. "And it's been a long time. For both of us. And you are very good at this. If memory serves." She undid a third button on his shirt and kept her lips moving down his neck to his chest. "I'll be clearer. You have explicit and express permission to touch me. I need you to use it. Now." She was on her back on her couch less than two seconds later.

"Are we going to watch this, too?" She said, watching Joel struggle with the buttons on her shirt while kissing her. "He's a great kisser, but he's even better in bed. And on the couch...on the living room floor...in the shower...against the kitchen countertop...and -"

"I really don't need that much detail, thank you." The older man said, turning towards the front door and moving towards it. "We should be on our way. You might ponder why things are so good between you, though."

"It's not exactly a mystery. You really can't ask for a better combination, as guys go, than a perfectionist with an oral fixation and an excellent working knowledge of human physiology..."

"That's not what I meant. We can step out now. We're not here for you to re-live that aspect of the evening." She stood and walked to her front door, which Rabbi Shulman was holding open for her. In her peripheral vision, she saw her shirt fly across the room from the couch and smiled to herself, remembering that night - their first 'real' time together. And very soon thereafter their second.

"So that's it? You wanted me to see us have the grown-up version of the 'do you like me - check yes or no' conversation?" He stopped and turned to face her in the dim light on her porch. 

"I wanted you to see the only even remotely serious conversation you and Joel ever have about your feelings for each other during this relationship. He's in love with you, by the way. Which is what he was failing to get across to you just then."

"He is? He was?"

"Yes. Which you'd know if you hadn't cut him off simply because you're more comfortable talking about sex than your emotions."

"Oh, that's not true."

"I notice you didn't tell him that you love him either. Though you do." The rabbi's face was disapproving and accusatory.

"It was our fifth date. I'm not professing my love to someone the second we start dating like I'm some..."

"... some woman who's finally gotten together with the man she's in love with? Who loves her back?"

"No, like some clingy, desperate... Why would I tell him that then?"

"So he'd know how you feel. You always get to know how you feel; he has to guess."

"He knows how I feel. Roughly."

"He sure didn't seem to. Not that he did a good job himself of conveying his thoughts."

"So we're bad putting our feelings into words. So what?"

"Well, let's see about 'so what', shall we?"


	4. Chapter 4

The rabbi raised an eyebrow at her as she heard her own voice, slurring slightly, "'Nother one. Right here."

They were suddenly in the Brick, standing behind the bar. Opposite them, across the expanse of wood, Maggie saw herself. She was wearing that long, baggy, salmon-colored sweater she used to love. Her eyes, though, were glassy and her mascara smudged, as she tapped an empty shot glass with her finger.

"Maggie. I'm not sure that's the best idea right now. You're..." Holling paused, his hands busy drying a glass. "...feeling a little under the weather. Wouldn't you rather head home and get to bed? See if you feel better tomorrow? Shelly could drive you. Or Ed."

"Oh sure, Maggie," Ed said, from a few seats down. "I'm leaving now. I've got a double feature tonight - Scorsese. You're welcome to join me, if you want. Oh, unless you're not done talking about Dr. Fleischman sleeping with his fiancee yet."

She watched herself wince slightly in response.

"I think we should start with Goodfellas. But if you want to watch Raging Bull first, that's okay, too. We still have time for both if we leave now..."

"_Ex_-fiancee," she glared in Ed's direction. "And just refill it," Maggie said, pushing the glass forward towards Holling. "I'm fine."

Holling pulled the glass back behind the bar with him and refilled it from a glass of water adding a splash of grapefruit juice before putting it back on the bar in front of Maggie. "You're the boss, Maggie. Ed, why don't you head off? Get both your movies in before it gets too late."

Ed looked grateful for permission to flee and wished Maggie a good night as he swung his leather jacket on, stacked some bills on the bar for his milk and moose burger, and left. "Bye, Maggie!" 

Maggie waved over her shoulder before downing the drink in one gulp, making a face as she did.

"He gave me fake vodka! How didn't I notice?"

"He was right to. You're fershnickered enough as it is." At her face, the rabbi clarified. "Drunk. Do you remember this night? Or, if not the details, the circumstances that led you to this?"

She did. It ended with Adam telling her she'd die a lonely old cat lady. It started with dinner and took its turn downhill not too long before the pitiable display in front of her now. Joel and Elaine had been flirting across their shared table, when she intruded and tried to interfere. Their intentions were entirely clear, though, and they left the bar together, despite her very best efforts. Maggie's misery was punctuated by the smugly triumphant look Elaine tossed over her shoulder as she followed Joel out the door. One, along with the earlier one she'd given her when Maggie had found them in Joel's living room, made sense. She now understood the ire behind them better after observing that conversation between the girls in an NYU bar. She definitely remembered what caused this. Not that the rabbi had earned the right for her to level with him quite so honestly. 

"I just felt bad for Fleischman is all."

"Bad enough to drown his sorrows as well as yours, it looks like."

"She showed up out of the blue to make him miserable and try to weasel her way back into a consolation husband, since her first one dropped dead! And now I know she'd been cheating on him even more before they broke up."

"Didn't you push for just that sort of reconciliation for them? As a growth experience?"

"Yeah, but I didn't think he'd actually..."

"Holling?" Her own voice interrupted her. "Why are men so driven by sex?" She put her chin onto the arms folded in front of her on top of the bar. She really looked a sight. Maggie watched herself and felt a flush creeping over her cheeks. Thank God Holling had never breathed a word of this to anyone. Especially to her.

Holling's eyebrows raised a little but his face remained its otherwise placid self. "Well, Maggie...that's both a very broad and a very pointed question, all at once. And one I'm not sure I can answer for you satisfactorily, I'm afraid."

"Why isn't it about romance or feelings or....hell, even practical considerations like having someone else to help you wash the dishes at night? It's just about sex."

"Shelly told me about you finding Joel and Elaine this morning," he said quietly, towling dry another glass. "And I watched you watch them leave together after dinner, too. It's not my place, of course, but if you're upset that he...

"What Fleischman does is a matter of extreme indifference to me," Maggie said, sitting up quickly, trying - and failing - to look more collected. "I just can't believe...her. Using him like that. Or that he lets her."

"I wouldn't worry about it too much. I know what you suspect but..." Holling patted her hand. "I've found the human heart has an amazing capacity for love. But I've never known someone to be _in_ love with more than one person at the same time. I think he'll realize the same thing himself. Joel's got a good head on his shoulders. Usually. And cares for you very much. The very thing that's upsetting you so is the reason this will turn out fine in the end. And, pardon the observation, but perhaps if you and he were honest with each other, there'd be no misunderstandings like this."

She turned to look in irritation at the rabbi, who was looking at her expectantly. 

"Subtle," she said. "What, you think I'll believe it more if Holling says it instead of you?"

"You already believe me. Because I'm not wrong about this. Even so..."

Suddenly, the familiar sights of the Brick blurred, darkened, and became the walls of Joel's living room. 

"I thought you'd appreciate seeing the other side of this coin as well..."

"No....no, thank you," she said, hurriedly. I'm certain I don't want a front row seat to what he was busy doing when I was talking to Holling."

"This is a different day. One not terribly far in the future. From your present day, I mean."

"You can do that? Show me the future, too?"

"Didn't you ever actually read this book? Remember the 'Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come'?"

"Hey, I did read David Copperfield - Great Expectations, Oliver Twist, Bleak House, _and_ A Tale of Two Cities. All for one class. We didn't get to this one. So sue me. I was a business major."

"There's a children's cartoon movie adaptation. The subject matter isn't exactly elusive."

The door lurched open suddenly, interrupting them, as Joel falling through it with about as much grace as it had opened with. 

"Whoa, Dr. Fleischman! Hold on a sec." Ed ducked under Joel's arm as he stepped through the door before standing and supporting Joel's weight on his shoulders. "Let's get you into your bed."

"Couch'll probably do better, Ed. And it's closer. Holling followed the other two men in, closing the door behind him. "I'll go get a pillow and blanket if you get his coat off and get him settled."

"Where should I put your keys, Dr. Fleischman?"

"I don't care. Throw them out. I don't even need keys here - no one bothers to lock their damn door and even if I did everyone else has the key."

Ed shrugged and considered the trash can by the door before setting them gingerly on Joel's kitchen table. He turned and started with the zipper on Joel' parka.

"I can take my own coat off," Joel said, stepping quickly out of Ed's reach but taking an extra two steps after that to regain his balance. "I will have you know, I hold a degree from the finest medical institution in the western world and...what's wrong with this coat?" He paused a moment to wrestle with the right sleeve which refused to turn loose of his arm until the third try. "Just because I managed to get dumped tonight by a woman who won't admit to going out with me in the first place doesn't make me entirely useless." Finally free of his coat, Joel hit the couch harder than he'd obviously planned to, making a face.

"He means me, I take it?" Maggie turned, questioningly to the rabbi. "When exactly is this?"

"Few weeks from now. In May."

"Why would we break up?"

The rabbi gestured for her to listen.

"Can I get your boots for you, Joel? Ed's gonna get you a couple of glasses of water to put within arm's reach on your table there. He'll get you a glass to have now, too. You need it, even with that coffee you had."

"Holling, caffiene doesn't have diuretic properties - I don't know why people think that. It's a methylxanthine alkaloid that primarily affects..." He fell back as Holling pulled his first boot off. "Ow....the central nervous system." He pushed himself back up as Holling started on the second. "Its dehydrating effects are significantly overstated. You're probably thinking of theophylline, which is another xanthine but a bronchodilator and can...oof... " The removal of his second boot flung him flat onto his back again on the couch, where he remained this time, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling as he probed his memory. "Or wait, am I thinking of theobromine? Maybe I am useless..."

"He's plastered!" Maggie took three steps forward to observe Joel more closely, lying on his back on his couch with one foot slung across Holling's knees a d the other on the floor.

"You sound surprised."

"I've known him for almost 5 years and I've only seen him tipsy a handful of times. Drunk, though - actually, embarassingly impaired, slurring drunk? Other than the night of the day he first moved here, never. This is bizarre. Of course he's babbling about medical crap. Only Fleischman..."

Holling's gentle voice took over for Joel as he paused, mid-ramble. "I just mean that you're a little sottish tonight, Joel, that's all. And a little water now will help make things more pleasant for you in the a.m." He resettled Joel's legs on the couch as he stood, laying a blanket over them.

"It'd be more effective if you got me my bag and let me give myself about a thousand ccs of saline fluid with an IV drip. God, what am I talking about? I can't hit a vein - I probably can't even deliver sub-cu fluids correctly anymore, either."

"Here you go, Dr. Fleischman. 3 glasses of water. If you drink this one now, I'll fill it back up for you, too. Want me to put a movie in the VCR for you? You have some good tapes here. Taxi Driver." Ed saw and then smiled at Maggie and gave her a small wave as he stood up from depositing the water.

"You said people can't see us!"

"That young man's a different story," the rabbi said, nodding a hello and smiling warmly at Ed. "In a lot of ways. He won't say anything."

Joel sat up on one arm and drained half of the glass as Holling returned carrying a pillow from his bedroom. "Holling? Would you leave Maggie for $30,000? And pretend she hasn't already dumped you for someone else when you're deciding about this."

"Thirty thousand dollars? What's he talking about? And where am I?"

"You're having dinner in with a friend from home tonight."

She felt suddenly wary. "Who?"

"Someone named Jed Fleming."

"Ohhhhhhh...he came all the way out to Alaska? That's not good..."

"He asked you to marry him earlier today."

"Fleischman did?" She felt herself smile.

"Jed did."

"Oh. Tell me I said no."

"You did. He seemed undeterred - he gave Joel a large check in exchange for his agreeing to move back to New York early."

"What?! He tried to bribe Fleischman so he could... Wait, and he's actually considering it!?"

"He wasn't. Until you told him you were too busy to talk to him about your relationship a few hours ago. And then he watched you take a food order for two home from that bar in town for a night in with Jed."

"I did _what_?"

"Hence his current state of inebriation. He made certain assumptions and proceeded to drink 2 double pina coladas in a row after that. And he'd had 2 already, trying to work up the courage to talk, tell you how he felt."

"He got drunk on the girliest of girly drinks? Over me and Jed Fleming?"

Holling tucked a pillow under Joel's head, furrowing his brow a little as he sat across from him on the coffee table. "Well, Joel. I can't really think of any circumstance where someone would make me an offer like that. Nor do I have the same sort of relationship that you do with her."

"You do now. Apparently. Since we aren't...whatever anymore."

"Joel. She's just having dinner in with an old friend."

"An old friend her mom wants her to marry. One she used to swim naked in a lake with," Joel said petulantly, reaching down to pull the blanket Holling had covered him with up to his chin.

"Jed told him that?! That wasn't even me! That was Debbie Arnold!"

Holling sat on the edge of the coffee table, smiling wryly at Joel. "You two had a little misunderstanding tonight, that's all. And you're not either of you used to fighting with each other about things that matter like this. But you're jumping to illogical conclusions right now, Joel. All will be right in the morning. I promise."

"Maybe I can go make them breakfast in bed tomorrow," Joel mumbled, settling into his pillow, eyes already closed.

Holling chuckled as he straightened to a standing position, smiling ruefully at Joel.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. You two make quite the pair, is all. I've had this same conversation with Maggie before, you know? Years ago, and drunker than you are now and all broken up over you going home with Elaine that night in the Brick. When she visited you after her husband passed."

"What?" Joel's eyes popped back open. "She was?"

"Poor thing was beside herself. Not that she'd admit it, particularly to you. Nor should you tell her about my revealing to you now. As I told her then, your lives would be a lot easier if you were honest with each other. Brooding like you're doing isn't going to do a damned thing. Except make you feel terrible in the morning."

"I'm not brooding. Can't you hear what I'm telling you? The woman I love is, at this moment, in bed with Jed Fleming. Of all people! Who just tried to pay me thirty grand for the privilege of getting out of his way."

"Just like in _Indecent Proposal_," Ed added in an untimely and unwelcome aside. "Except that was a million dollars."

Holling cast a disapproving look at Ed before continuing. "Joel, Maggie's not the unfaithful kind..."

"Yeah, well, lucky for both of us - and especially for Jed right now - we've neither of us admitted we're dating. So she has carte blanche to not-cheat on me."

Holling shook his head in frustration as he gave up on counseling Joel. He met Ed at the front door and clicked the light switch off as they opened it.

"You really think she won't do anything with him?" Joel called from the couch, sounding hopeful, his eyes still closed.

"If she loves you, she won't." Holling pulled the door closed as he and Ed exited.

"Some comfort," Joel mumbled to himself in the darkness.

"I can't believe he thinks I'd...and with Jed! And you said he couldn't say it; he told Holling he loved me, no problem."

"I said he couldn't say it to _you_. In his defense, he tries to tell you several times over your time together. But he always loses courage, then you change the subject, and you both continue on as you've always been. If you told him, he'd say it right back. And then you'd both know."

"Well, why should it be *my* job? I shouldn't have to say it first if he won't."

"Ah! We've come to the mistake you two make, at long last."

"I'm sure we tell each other eventually."

"Are you?"

"We're neither of us cowards. I know that."

"I see. Well, shall we?"

"No! What happens after this? Did I sleep with Jed?"

"Do you think you would have?"

"No, but Fleischman thinks so."

"You don't." Maggie felt relief wash over her - she'd pulled some ridiculous stunts to garner jealousy in her day, but she knew how she felt about Jed - and Joel. "Jed tries, of course, but you show him the door."

"And this business over the check?"

"Joel doesn't accept it. And you never find out about it. You both act the next day like none of this happened. And Jed goes back home after a brief confrontation with Joel."

"See? All's well that ends well, then."

"Such willful blindness you have. I suppose that's why you actually believe Joel +when he tells you the next day those two black eyes he has were from a golfing injury."

"Are you telling me Jed hit him?! That ruthless, amoral, domineering asshole! Fleischman's probably never hit anyone a day in his life."

"I don't disagree with your assessment, although your phrasing's a little saltier than my usual vocabulary allows for. But you're right - Joel's a pacifist and a healer who wouldn't know how to hit someone if he had to." He paused a moment before continuing. "Which is probably why he almost broke his hand on Jed's ribs." 

"He did? Fleischman? Huh..." Maggie grinned a little, instantly irritated with herself for feeling flattered by Joel's uncharacteristically Neanderthal behavior. "Well, good. I'm just glad he at least defended himself."

"I'm certain I shouldn't tell you this - but I will. It was defense, but not self defense. Joel hit him first. You know how territorial men can get." He winked at her and tugged her hand to follow him out Joel's front door.


	5. Chapter 5

The darkness of Joel's porch brightened quickly, and the quiet of the outdoors was replaced with the din of a busy airport concourse.

"Oh! Anchorage airport," she said quickly. "Well, the commercial concourse, not where I fly in and out of. Obviously."

She saw Joel in a tweed sport coat and patterned tie, sitting in one of the long rows of uncomfortable, barely-padded waiting area chairs that dotted the airport. Her eyes flickered to the departure board behind the ground crew's desk at the nearby gate. New York-Kennedy airport.

Joel's eyes looked up and seemed to meet hers. For a second she worried he could see her before she realized he was looking just beyond her. He looked unhappy and worried, as someone brushed past her - the person he was looking at. Her. 

"Only about 10 minutes 'til boarding starts, O'Connell." He said it with a hint of foreboding to his voice.

"We're going to New York?" Maggie asked the rabbi, her eyes still trained on Joel's. His eyes were his curse - dark, expressive, and entirely unable to conceal what was going on in his head, bad or good. It was obviously was the former now, and the other clues made her pretty sure as to why, but she was determined to be talked out of what she knew was going on. And why she was here to observe it.

"He is." The rabbi's tone was clear, his inflection calculated to emphasize Joel's very solitary plans, but Maggie kept trying to talk around the obvious conclusion to draw.

"Oh. Visiting his parents or something?"

"He's going home."

"For good? When is this?"

"Next February." They would have been dating for a year by then, she reasoned.

"I'm not going?"

"No."

"But he's still going?"

"You two never talked about what would happen between you when he left. Right up until this moment."

"Oh come on. That's not possible. Even we can't be that passive."

Maggie watched herself slide gingerly into the seat next to Joel. He was looking at her feet. "Tie's crooked," she said, reaching to his collar to straighten it. "Here. I don't know why you dress up to fly like you do. No one does that anymore."

His eyes shifted to search her face just as her eyes moved to watch her fingers fidget with his tie. "This isn't going to work," he said softly.

"What isn't? See? It looks better now. No problem." She patted his tie and smiled at him, her smile wavering a little when she saw the look in his eyes. 

"_This_, O'Connell. You and I. Shouldn't we at least talk about things?"

"Oh we'll be fine," she said, obviously not believing herself. "I'll come visit you in April, and we can meet this summer, somewhere halfway. Like, I don't know, maybe Chicago..."

"No."

"Or Detroit."

"O'Connell..."

"Minneapolis, then."

Joel looked down at his hands in his lap, and Maggie frowned at him. "It's not the city that's the problem."

"You're just worried about flying."

"I'm not."

She put her hand on his forearm. "You are. You hate flying."

"Big planes aren't as bad as tiny ones like yours. And thinking about flying is the absolute least of my problems right now. I hope you realize I care more about you - about us - than that. I just wish we...nevermind."

"Oh, we'll be fine. We've survived worse."

Joel took a deep breath, finally looking up, away from the Maggie sitting next to him but almost directly at the Maggie standing across from him. His eyes were pained, and he looked miserable. But resigned. "I figured this'd end someday, with us like we are." He tried to smile. "I just expected a more explosive and spectacular ending than in an airport waiting area."

"You're the only one talking about endings, Fleischman. People have long distance relationships all the time."

"Not us."

"Why not?"

"Why not?! O'Connell. I've wanted for 6 months to talk to you about what you wanted to do when my contract ended, but you've avoided the conversation every time I've come close. You won't talk to me about that, but you expect us to successfully navigate 4,000 miles' worth of distance between us? Forever? And what's more, we've been together for a year now. This has to be the first time you've even used the word 'relationship' to describe this thing between us. You think we can last on opposite sides of the continent like that?"

"Sure. Why can't we?"

Joel turned sideways in his chair towards her. "Okay. Then marry me."

"What?!"

"Come with me. Let's get married. We'll get a little place in Brooklyn together. You can find a job. You're smart and...and we can take our honeymoon back to Cicely. 10 times if you want. We'll visit anytime you want, too. Just come with me."

"Fleischman...I'm not getting married just to reassure you that this will work. And I don't want to live in New York..."

He nodded solemnly and turned back in his chair, leaning forward to rummage through his carry on bag.

"Hey...come on..." She took his hand, looking worried. "Look, we still have time. You know what? Stay here instead. Cancel your ticket. Maurice'll give you your old job back, I'm sure."

"What about us?" His eyes were suddenly hopeful as he turned back to face her more fully.

"Then we can keep going like we always have," she said, smiling at him hopefully.

He nodded sadly. "You want us to keep going like we always have."

"You won't stay, will you?"

"You won't marry me, will you?"

"Fleischman..."

"Flight three sixty-two with service to New York's Kennedy airport will begin boarding in a few minutes through gate 7. Passengers in rows 30 through 38 will be the first to board through the door to my right. Please have your boarding pass on hand and ready for the gate agent. This will serve as your reminder that passengers are limited to two pieces of hand luggage each on this flight and that..."

Joel leaned forward and kissed her. "I know it didn't seem like it sometimes, but I'll always be glad I did this, Maggie. Really. Came to Alaska. Took that scholarship. Took this job. All of it. And that I met you." He stood and gathered his bags. 

"This isn't how it ends for us, is it?" Maggie asked the rabbi, feeling tears prick at her eyes. "I mean, surely we...it isn't, is it?" He said nothing but put a hand on her shoulder from behind her.

"Fleischman, wait." She watched herself grab his hand again. "Were you serious about getting married?"

He smiled sadly at her. "Especially that I met you." He kissed her again, his lips lingering long on hers, before pulling back to look at her, her face still cradled in his hands. "I love you." He rubbed his thumb against her cheek once more before turning away. Both their eyes were glassy, but where he still looked resigned, she just looked stunned.

He walked to join the line at his gate as the Maggie who'd come with him turned to watch him walk. She stood frozen, staring at him as he lined up with the other passengers. The gate agent finished her announcement and started taking boarding passes one by one, the line inching forward and Joel along with it. 

"We can leave now if you'd rather not watch him go."

Maggie turned her head towards the rabbi, still standing behind her. "Surely I do something. Or he does. That cannot be how things end with us."

"He calls you a few times in the first weeks he's home. And you call him twice. But this is the last time you ever see each other. He doesn't look back. And you don't try to change that. Physically or metaphorically. So, yes, this is the end."

"He told me he loves me. I don't tell him?"

"You said he knows how you feel." He gave her a doubtful look. 

"Is that the point of all of this? You're trying to say that this is all my fault because I'm bad at expressing my -" She paused, gesturing vaguely. "You know."

"No. It's both of your faults. Quite obviously."

Joel came to the front of the line and handed over his boarding pass, which the agent examined before nodding and handing him a stub back. He disappeared into the jetway without looking back.

Maggie watched herself sit back in the chair, resignation now apparent on her face.

"So what happens now?"

"We move along," he turned and started down the wide airport concourse. Maggie followed at his elbow.

"No, with us? Fleischman and I?"

The concourse slowly turned into Cicely's main street around them, the familiar buildings coming into view around them. A crowd (well, a Cicely-sized one) had gathered outside Ruth Anne's store and they walked towards it together. 

"You asked about the future, so here's a homecoming of sorts..."

"When is this?"

"In about 8 years."

"Dr. F! Boss shades," came Shelly's voice. She hoisted a toddler higher up in her arms as another, older child hovered at her side. "Randi," she said, crouching slightly to come to eye level with the shy-looking blonde girl who was clutching her hand. "This is Dr. Joel Fleischman. He helped you be born. Isn't that primo?"

As Maggie and the rabbi neared, she could see a man with short, dark hair wearing a dark windbreaker remove a pair of sunglasses and reach forward to pat the girl's head as she shyly hid her face in Shelly's side.

"See? I knew he'd come back."

Maurice stepped forward to shake Joel's hand. "Should done a better job snaring you, son. How's city life? Bet you miss this, huh?"

"Oh it's fine. And parts of it. Sometimes..." Joel chuckled as Maggie finally got near enough to get a glimpse of him in the spaces between the assembled crowd. He was older, with his same boyish, dimpled smile and dark, sparkling eyes - just now with faint lines at their corners. His usually unruly hair was cropped short, losing all hint of the curls she loved to run her fingers through. He tucked his sunglasses into his shirt pocket, tucking one earpiece on the inside of the fabric to hold them in place. "Hey, you know, you should come out to the city some time, Maurice. Really. We're buying a place out in Montauk. Bring Ed and some of the guys with you. Anytime you want. Fishing and hiking and...whatever else it is people do out in the wilderness. I wouldn't know, of course..."

"You never quite acclimated to it, did ya? Well, you tried. Sometimes. I'll give you that much." Maurice shook his head fondly, still smiling broadly. 

Their handshake ended but Joel's eyes were still on Maurice's, debating whether to say what he was thinking. "So..."

"She's not here, Joel. Moved to Seward a couple of years ago." Maurice laughed a little. "Damn near killed the town, losing the two of you like that. Your little missus wouldn't happen to fly would she?" He smiled, anticipating Joel's reaction to his half-joke. "And you aren't in need of a research grant or any other such funding, are you? I doubt you read your contracts any more closely now than when you were in your 20s..."

"He married someone else?" Maggie asked the rabbi.

"For a time. Nurse in his practice. It was important to him to get married. You know that."

"I didn't, actually," she said softly. "So he really marries someone else? Kids?"

"No. Didn't work long term. They divorced within a few years of marrying. He stayed in New York after that, near his job and his mother. His father passes away around the time of his divorce."

Next to her, Joel laughed politely with Maurice. "I'm not falling for that again. One sentence here was lesson enough." Joel paused. "Seward, huh?" 

Maurice nodded. 

"She hates Seward," Joel said with a sardonic half-smile.

"He's right," Maggie whispered. "Always have. It's touristy. The climate's boring and stagnant. I can't imagine moving there."

"You don't need to whisper. They still can't hear us. And you wanted to stay in Alaska. But you had to get away from Cicely after Joel left, when it didn't work out between you and the fellow from the radio station."

"I date Chris Stevens?"

"Not for long. Or at all successfully. The fireworks Joel expected in your breakup? That was you and Chris. To say you didn't get along puts it very mildly."

Next to them, Maurice's expression sobered to match Joel's. "I'm sorry, son. Ruth Anne stays in touch with her. She's getting by fine, at least - if that's of any comfort. Still flying. Of course. You know how she is. Not married. Not that...anyhow, if you'd like to pass along your number or word that you-"

"No, no. Thanks, Maurice. I don't think it'd be a great idea, present company considering," he said, nodding his head at the dark-haired woman standing at the register inside, her figure distorted slightly by the reflection of light on the glass outside. "Plus, I'm sure she doesn't want to hear from me after all this time."

"Dr. Fleischman!" Ed stepped forward from behind the crowd beaming and clapped a hand to Joel's shoulder. 

"Ed, it's been almost 15 years we've known each other, and I'm not your physician anymore. You can call me Joel."

"Oh, ok, Dr. Fleischman." 

Joel laughed to himself and pulled Ed close for a hug.

"I can't watch this anymore. So he's happy at least?"

"He ends up rich and as one of the most well-respected physicians in his field."

Maggie nodded somberly. "Oh. Well, he'll be happy then."

"He's not. Content, yes, but not happy. Just like you end up. You were the love of his life, you know. And he yours. And this town was your home. And his."

"You're lucky Fleischman's not here to correct you on that."

"He loves this town."

"Oh he does not. He's had nothing but ire and irritation since the day he got here."

"Maybe at first, but he's acclimated. He feels temporary here, an outsider with nothing to make him feel wanted and needed beyond his employment. All he needs is to know you want him to stay."

She was silent for a long while, pondering all of this. "So he ends up divorced, and I never get married huh? And move to Seward, of all places? I don't quite believe that..."

The scenery changed rapidly again, blurring and darkening into the interior of a house. Maggie saw herself, hair past her shoulders, reclining under a blanket on a couch with a book in her hands. 

"I'm old!"

"Hardly. You're 40 or so."

"That's plenty old. I have crow's feet and Lord knows what else falling apart under that blanket."

"Well, dear, 40's hardly old, and time does march on, as they say. And you asked to see the future."

"Not this far in the future. I'm alone, then?"

"You have a dog. Howie. He's there on the floor next to you. You rescued him, and he's absolutely devoted to you."

"I meant without human companionship. I don't end up with anyone?"

"Not permanently. You have a few relationships over the years, some better than others." 

She made a face. "So I am to believe Joel Fleischman is the paradigm of my ideal relationship...and that I'm his, huh? Isn't he supposed to marry someone Jewish?"

"Officially? Of course he is. Unofficially? He's supposed to do what makes him happy. You love who you love, differences in dogma aside. And he loves you. And you could always convert, of course. Excuse the salesmanship, though - that's obviously not my objective here."

The room changed around them again, and they were back in her cabin.

"So that's it?"

"That's all I have to show you, yes."

"Well, I appreciate the guilt trip. Your approach could really stand to be toned down a bit, made more subtle. There's no way any of that happens."

"Where have I mistaken my facts so far in what I've shown and told you?"

"Even if it is true, what am I supposed to do about it?"

"Isn't it quite clear by now? The future is not immutable. All either of you have ever needed is for you to tell him how you feel and that you want him to stay."

"Well, why do I have to be the one to ask?"

"Because you know how he feels now - something he doesn't know about you. And because you're braver than he is. A very little bit, but you are. It's why I picked you and not him." 

"Well, what should I say exactly?"

"What do you want from him?"

"I don't know."

"You do. So say that." He smiled at her and shook her hand. "And now, I'd better get on. I'm terribly late as it is. It was a pleasure, my dear. Don't let me down, now."

"Wait! That's not fair. I want to see the alternate future, where we're happy. See if my saying something really does change things for the better. It's only fair, ya know?"

"True. Tell you what. You tell him, and I'll come back and show you sometime. Until then."

In the next second, he was gone, after which Maggie woke with a start in the darkness of her room. She looked to her bedside table for the time and was surprised to see it was 2:44 am. The same time as when she'd first heard noises in her living room and this all began, which felt like days ago.

Sadness, anxiety, and regret were still coursing through her. Had it all been a dream? She rose to look for any sign of the rabbi, and found his half-full coffee mug sitting, still warm, on the table in her living room. Her rifle was still propped up against the fridge door. And it sure hadn't seemed like a dream...

She moved back through her bedroom and then into the hallway again, reentering the living room. The house was silent, though, and she was definitely alone. She gave into pacing, continuing on a slow loop between her living room and between for a long while, thinking through all that had happened and considering her next move. 


	6. Chapter 6

Like Maggie had, Joel woke with a start at the unmistakeable sound of someone walking through his living room. Unlike Maggie, he knew he'd locked his door and windows - every point of entry into his cabin was secured, as always. Also unlike Maggie, he had no interest in rushing out to see who - or what - was now roaming his house. He sat straight up in bed and tried to triage the situation and evaluate his admittedly limited options.

The footsteps advanced quickly towards him, and he squinted in the dim moonlight that filtered through his blinds. A hand appeared against his doorframe and a face peeked into his room. For a brief moment, he wished he did own the gun she'd always told him he needed to and, considerably more emasculatingly, wished that she were there with him because she'd know what to do and not be afraid like this. His mind was able to identify the face just as it spoke.

"Fleischman? This is real creepy, you know? You don't sleep sitting up do you?"

"Jeez, O'Connell! You scared me to death. What are you sneaking around my house in the middle of the night for?"

"I needed to talk to you." She started working one boot off with the toe of the opposite foot.

"Now? I just saw you 4 hours ago."

"I gotta tell you this." She stepped out of the second boot and left the pair next to his doorframe. She padded in socks across his bedroom floor, climbed onto his bed, and crawled across it to kneel next to him and wrap her arms around him where he sat. 

"Hey! Now what are you...oh, are you okay?" His ire cooled some as she buried her face in the crook of his neck, gripping him tighter. Bewildered, he put his arms around her and eased her down to lay with him, stroking his fingers gingerly along her back as he tried desperately to understand what was going on. He could feel her heart racing against him.

"What's wrong? Hey, it'll be okay." He paused a moment, not sure if she was even looking for reassurance or comfort. She'd certainly never sought any from him before. "Whatever 'it' is. Really. Look, don't get mad, but did something happen? Or did you have...I don't know, a bad dream or something like that? You come barging in here in the middle of the night and -"

"I'm in love with you." Her lips were against his ear so there was no missing what she had said, but he was certain she hadn't said it all the same.

"What?"

"You heard me. I'm in love with you." It came out even easier the second time she said it. She felt herself start to feel calmer and finally able to breathe again.

"O'Connell...I...are you okay? Maybe we should get up, and I'll get my bag and check your orientation, your eyes, make sure you..."

She laughed gently against him. "I tell you I love you, and of course you want to check me for head trauma."

"Hey..." his voice softened. "No. But...you love me? Really?"

"Yeah. I do. And another thing - I don't want us to break up."

"Were we going to?!"

"And I'm tired of you going home at the end of the night, too. I want you to stay. And not just sometimes - I want us to move in together. And while we're at it, I don't want you to go back to New York when your contract's up. I want you to stay here, with me. Together. In fact, let's get married. Have kids. Build a life. You and me."

She pulled back and put her forehead to Joel's. Her eyes had adjusted enough to the light that she was able to make out the expression on his face. She almost laughed, seeing it - stunned with a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, which had fallen open slightly. "You must be in shock if you're not telling me 'it's you and I,' not 'you and me.'"

"What the hell happened after I left tonight?! Did you just wake up at 3 am and suddenly think, 'you know what, I want Joel Fleischman to father my children, and I need to tell him that _right now_'?"

"We'd make cute babies, Fleischman." She kissed his lower lip and tried again not to laugh at his expression - now a mix of bewilderment and joy, with the latter slowly supplanting the former as they talked. "Look, I know this is what we need to do. All that matters is whether you love me, too." For a second, she felt her confidence waver. What if had all been a figment of her imagination?

He smiled, looking shy, and leaned in to nuzzle her ear with his nose. The tone of his voice had softened when he spoke again. "It has to be just about the worst-kept secret in the world, and I've spent the last two years worried you'd already figured this out. Of course I love you. You make me crazy, O'Connell, but I'm also crazy about you." He laughed gently against her. "Not 'come propose at 4 am crazy', but definitely crazy. I'm sorry I never said anything. I didn't think you felt the same way. And I love you so much more than I know I could bear to lose if it turned out you didn't." His voice wavered a moment, he kissed her neck to give himself a second to get more collected. "So if you remember any of in the morning, I will hold you to all of it at the earliest opportunity."

"Oh really? First thing, huh?"

"Yeah." He hugged her to him. "I'm not convinced you're gonna remember any of this this tomorrow, though."

"I will, and now you and I have a deal." She snuggled against his chest. "So 'night, Fleischman."

He chuckled and stoked his hand along her back. "And just like that, you're going to sleep, huh? Planned my future and yours, and so now it's time for bed?"

"We've got a busy day tomorrow," she said, her words slurring slightly as they faded into a yawn. "Apparently. And I'm tired. It *is* 4 am."

"What does that mean, 'busy day'?"

"You're a bad listener, Fleischman," she said, yawning again. "You make up for it in other ways, but you really need to work on that. And a long list of other things. Anyway, 'night."

"Do you routinely lose your mind somewhere after midnight? If I'm gonna be stuck with you permanently, you're obligated to disclose something like that. This can't be a surprise you spring on me later like my cabin being haunted. And you really think you're gonna admit to all of this when we wake up?" He tucked her hair behind her ear and put his hand on her shoulder, his voice suddenly quieter. "And you really think I would consider staying the rest of my life in Alaska, just because I fell in love with you?"

He was met with quiet, even breathing next to him. He nudged her gently. "Huh, O'Connell? Do you? " He sighed and kissed her forehead before settling against his pillow, face to face with her. "Because you're right," he whispered. "I was always going to stay. If you asked me. But don't tell anyone that. Especially you."

\-----

"_Call her_, Fleischman." 

Maggie stood in front of Joel wearing his new blue dress shirt, buttoned, but just barely, twice in the middle. She was holding out the handset of the hotel phone with an impatient look on her face. He was torn between taking in more of her invitingly bare legs and being fearful of the increasingly irritated look in her eyes.

"And say what exactly, O'Connell? Anyway, I thought we were going to dinner."

"At 5:30? With me dressed like this?"

"Get dressed, then." He hung up the phone and snagged her wrist, pulling her gently back into bed with him. "But I happen to think you look great in that..._Mrs. Fleischman_." He leaned in to kiss her, but she turned her head quickly.

"I've told you ten times already today, I'm not changing my name. Are you? _Mr. O'Connell_?"

"Point taken."

"Good." She kissed him quickly and reached again for the phone, handing it to him. "Now, be an adult and call the real Mrs. Fleischman. I called my mom. This surely can't go worse than that did."

"It wasn't *that* bad."

"She immediately assumed I'd gotten myself knocked up, Fleischman! Which is apparently the only reason she could see anyone ever agreeing to marry me. Obligation."

He shrugged, smiling at her irritation. "You said she seemed pleased when she thought I was the obligor."

"Only because you're a doctor."

"You ever going to tell her you aren't actually pregnant?"

"I assume she'll figure it out eventually." The phone started to bark out its unpleasant off-hook noise, chastising them both for Joel's dawdling. She got out of bed and hung it up and then put the handset back in front of him again, "_Call_."

"At least let me put some clothes on first. This would work..." He reached forward and tugged on one of the buttons holding his dress shirt closed, but she evaded him again and left to walk to the foot of the bed. "That one is _my_ shirt, O'Connell."

"I bought it. And anyway, what's yours is mine now. Legally. Be glad this is all I want for the moment."

"This is Alaska, though. Are you entirely sure women aren't still considered property here? Maybe I own _you_ now. Shirt and all."

"Shut up, Fleischman." She tossed him his boxers and a white t-shirt from the floor. "Now call your mother."

Joel hung up the phone again and pulled the shirt and boxers on. He lifted the phone back up with his right hand and started dialing with his left, his wedding band reflecting the light of the bedside table it as his fingers moved. He still wasn't used to seeing or feeling it on his hand and wondered how long it would take before he was. Probably far less time than it'd take to get used to being married to Maggie.

She hadn't been kidding; he still couldn't believe it. He'd awoken confused when he felt her slide back into bed to perch beside him this morning. As his eyes slowly blinked open, she was already wide awake and talking down at him from above at a rapid clip. 

"Good. You're up finally. I made some coffee. You need to shower. Shave. Quickly, too. It's fully 3 hours one-way to Anchorage, and it's already 7:30. We need to get going. I went though your desk and found your birth certificate. Now, normally there's a three day waiting period once you file for the license, but a friend of a friend is a district magistrate. He agreed to push our paperwork through the county clerk's office today, but only if we can get there and get the paperwork in by 1. He'll do the ceremony at 4. Bailiff and assistant DA can be witnesses. We can just buy whatever else we need at that department store on 5th while we're waiting. You could use a new suit anyway. Especially one picked out by someone other than you."

Bleary-eyed and still a little thrown off from waking up next to her for the first time in his life, he struggled to sit up and make sense of the onslaught of words coming at him. He'd almost forgotten the strange turn of events that had brought her to him in the middle of the night. And what they'd said to each other then. "Huh? You dug through my desk? What would ever possess you to..."

"Get up." She tugged the blanket off his shoulders impatiently. 

"I don't need a new suit, either - it would cost me a month's salary. And a license? Magistrates and DAs? What the hell are you babbling about, O'Connell?"

"You said 'at the earliest opportunity' last night. This is it. I made some calls and set everything up. Now, get up. Get cleaned up. I'll explain on the way." By the time they arrived at Cicely's airstrip, he at least understood what was happening. Only two hours later, somewhere over the Lake Clark preserve, did he finally start to believe it. 

"You seriously intend for us to do this _today_?" She had her tower communication headset on and her plane, as it always was, was loud enough to make it hard to be heard without shouting.

"For the fiftieth time, yes. I'm not a patient person. And you're twice as bad as I am. So why would we wait?" He didn't have a ready response and by the time he'd started to think of one, she was radioing in for clearance for her Anchorage approach. 

He watched her now, still in his shirt, picking his suit coat up from the floor to put it over the back of a chair. She'd bought him the suit. And their rings. And her dress. He'd balked at the cost of everything - nearly a thousand dollars in a single purchase - but she'd casually told him not to worry about it, that she had something north of three million in trust accounts that were hours away from being 'theirs'.

"You're rich?!"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly use that word."

"Three million dollars?! What *would* you call it, then?"

"Keep your voice down. I don't know...I guess I'd say I...well, I 'have money'. Actually, _we_ do now. Almost. This can't be a huge surprise. You know what my dad did. You saw where I grew up. Where did you think I got the money for a plane? My houses? Just be glad you're not signing a prenup right now. You should be..." She held a red tie to his chest, tilting her head to consider it before nodding. "Here, we'll get this one. I like it better than the one you picked."

Back in the hotel room, the phone started ringing on his parents' end, bringing him back to the present moment. He did the math on the time change again before deciding his mother, surely, was still up and he wasn't pulling her from bed with his call. Unfortunately, since he had no idea how to tell her about any of this. 

"O'Connell. Why can't this wait until tomorrow?"

"Because she's your _mom_, Fleischman."

In that moment, his mother answered, and he took a deep breath and started in.

"Hi, Ma. Uh, how're you doing? ...No, nothing's wrong. Why?"

Maggie came around the corner in the dress she'd married him in. Nontraditional, of course, and unadorned, but beautiful. Like her. She was apparently planning to wear it to dinner after this. She sat next to him, leaning to the side so he'd notice and then zip up the open back of her dress. She then leaned into his shoulder, grinning, obviously eager to watch him fumble his way through this awkward call.

"My voice is fine, Ma. ... You were? ...Yeah, well, I'm not at my office, I've been in Anchorage all day, sorry. ...No, no. Juneau's the one that's the capital. ...Yeah, I know, seems like it should be Anchorage... Well, I sort of need to talk to you, too." He chuckled nervously and ran one hand through his hair. "You go first, though. So what's going on? ...Oh. Oh no. Oh, that's too bad. Really, Ma. When did it happen?"

Maggie's expression changed from teasing to sympathetic and questioning. Joel shrugged as if to say it wasn't a big deal, but his eyes looked sadder than before. "And when's the... Next week? ...Huh. Yeah, it's a long way. I might be able to, though. I, uh...I'd probably need to check first with, uh..." He paused and shook his head disbelieving before continuing. "Well, with my wife, actually." He laughed, eyes meeting Maggie's. "Yeah, you heard me right. ...No, I'm not kidding." He laughed again. "An hour ago."

Even Maggie heard the 'what?!' from where she sat. She watched Joel's face, his features changing ever so slightly, eyes widening and smile wavering, looking suddenly quite a bit like a little boy being yelled at by his mother. 

"Well, I didn't _know_ I was doing this when we talked on Monday. In my defense, Ma, I didn't even know I had a _girlfriend_ on Monday, let alone that I was going to marry her on Wednesday afternoon."

"You had a girlfriend on Monday, you idiot," Maggie hissed next to him. 

Joel covered the mouthpiece quickly, "I didn't know for _sure_ that I had a girlfriend until she unilaterally upgraded herself to my fiancee in the middle of the night last night." He uncovered it again. "What, Ma? ...Yeah, I'm in trouble with both of you, apparently. She's right here next to me. Glaring. ..._Who_ is she? Oh! Oh, I'm sorry, Ma. I guess I never said that part. It's Maggie. Maggie O'Connell. ...Yeah, the pilot who flew you guys that time. ...Oh you did not 'know it'. ...Yeah, I really doubt that. Anyway, I'd better get going, Ma. ...I'll see if I can get there next week, though. And if she'll come. Can you tell Pop for me? Make it make sense. As much as you can, that is? ...Yeah. Sorry for springing this on you like this. You mad? ...I'll call you this weekend and you can ask me all the questions you want, okay? Promise. ...I love you, too, Ma. 'Night."

"See? No big deal."

"Well, no one assumed anyone was pregnant, at least, but that hardly went well. I'm in trouble for 'hiding' a relationship I wasn't sure I even had from her. She claimed she 'knew' we'd end up together, though."

"How?"

"She said she could tell by how I looked at you. In the 2 minutes we spent together around her at the airstrip." He rolled his eyes and then leaned in and kissed her, pulling her close. "She's elated that it's you. And under the mistaken impression that you're great."

Maggie glared playfully at him, before softening a little. "Everything else okay? It sounded like bad news at the start."

"Oh. Yeah. That. Just...a family friend died. That's all. And Ma wants me to come back for the funeral next week. Apparently she's forgotten already that it's a 6 hour flight from here to there." He stood up and pulled on his suit pants. "Hey, are these okay for dinner?"

She laughed. "Yeah. You've acclimated much quicker to married life than I'd have guessed, Fleischman. Running your outfit choices past me for approval already?"

"I must still be in shock. And on my best behavior on our honeymoon. It won't last. I promise."

"Who was it?"

"Who was what?" Joel walked to the table, put his blue shirt back on, and started buttoning it.

"Who died?"

"Oh. Our rabbi."

"Rabbi _Shulman_?"

"Yeah," Joel nodded before pausing. "Wait. How do you know his name?"

"He told me..." Joel was watching her thoughtfully as Maggie caught herself before too much crazy had poured out. "_You_ told me, I mean. You've mentioned him before, remember? He died? When?"

"Yeah. Yesterday."

"When yesterday?"

"Ma didn't say..." Joel was still looking at Maggie oddly, and then he came to sit next to her again on the bed as he pulled on his socks. "O'Connell. I know I never told you my rabbi's last name. And I know you're not clairvoyant because you'd have killed me years ago for some of the things I've thought about you."

"Mean thoughts? Or fantasy-type thoughts?"

"Both. Sometimes at the same time, too." He grinned down at his hands as they finished the work of pulling his socks on. He turned to look at her again. "So, how do you know Rabbi Shulman?"

"I don't. You've just mentioned him before."

"I haven't. Not by name." He smiled at her. "You're lying. I bet I know how you know him, too. And that you don't want to tell me because you think I'll think you're crazy."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Older guy. Always in a suit and tie. Shows up in the middle of the night and scares you to death in pursuit of teaching you some life lesson. Right?"

"I don't get 'scared', Fleischman."

"Am I right?" He pulled her to her feet beside the bed and put his hands on her waist. It felt a little strange still to both of them to be in this close of contact, this affectionate, together. Only the two of them would end up feeling like they were still on their first date on their honeymoon. "Look, I'm asking because it's happened to me before. Several times. I didn't realize he did this to my acquaintances, too."

"'Acquaintance'? We got married less than two hours ago, and you're already describing me as your acquaintance?" She crossed her arms between them, with his hands still on her waist. "You're such a romantic, Fleischman. It's a wonder you were still single."

He reached past her to grab his new red tie, which had at some point been flung over the top of the lampshade on the bedside table. "You're evading my question. Look, I know I'm right about this..."

"You should really adopt that sentence as your personal motto, you know, Fleischman. You say it often enough."

"Just tell me." He looped the tie around the back of his neck and started to work it underneath his collar as he turned and moved towards the long dresser opposite their bed.

"You don't need a tie for dinner."

"I'm wearing one anyway."

"Looks like the honeymoon's over for my opinion on how you dress." 

Joel slid on his shoes and put his room key and wallet his his pocket, tying his tie as she sat perched at the foot of their bed. "Look, if it makes it any more likely that you'll tell me, he's done this to me about ten times over the years."

He watched, but his admission elicited no response. He walked back to her and kneeled down in front of her, taking her hand and trying sympathy as a tactic. "You're not crazy. Any more than I am, at least. Was he what made you come over last night? What'd he talk to you about? Me?"

"You're an incredible egomaniac." She reached for his collar. "And it's a good thing you've got someone to do this for you now. You graduated from medical school - why can't you tie a tie straight?" 

"You're avoiding my question."

"You're right." She gave his tie a playful tug and smiled. "Look, your psychoses are your problem, Fleischman, and they are interrupting my honeymoon. This conversation is over. Let's go have dinner."

Shaking his head the entire way, he followed her to the door, which she opened before pausing. 

"That's weird." She bent forward and lifted up a card that had been set outside their door. She handed it to him. "A card. Maybe the hotel left it for us."

They left their room and got a few steps down the hall before he stopped and started laughing. She turned to look back at him. 

"What?"

"You _sure_ you don't have something you want to tell me? Maybe about last night? How you spent the evening after I left?"

"No. Why?"

He flicked open the paper dramatically and started reading. "_Dearest Maggie and Joel, mazel tov and warmest congratulations to you both._"

"That was nice of them." They had started walking together down the hallway again, and he looked at her out of the corner his his eyes, smiling to himself.

"Sure. And an extremely tailored and specific sentiment, at that. For a hotel to convey. Particularly one that didn't know we'd gotten married today. Or that I'm Jewish."

"Neither was terribly difficult for them to have deiphered, between your last name and the fact you couldn't keep your hands to yourself when we checked in."

"Yeah, sure; that was all me downstairs, O'Connell," he said sarcastically. "So you're still sticking to your story, then, huh? Fair enough, let's see what else this says," he continued, with exaggerated casualness. "Where was I... _Congratulations go moreso to Maggie than to you, Joel, of course, since she was the one to finally set things right and in motion between the two of you._ That doesn't mean anything to you? Any of it? Just more amazingly accurate guesswork from the hotel staff?"

"I thought you couldn't read without your glasses." He'd left them, of course, on his bedside table at home, hours ago - long before he'd realized what the day had in store for him. He wasn't about to allow her to deflect this conversation. 

"I can see well enough to read this. Anyway, you see worse than I do close up, and you never wear yours like you're supposed to. Which is why you get headaches every afternoon. Not that I want to have that argument again, but... The point is I can read it fine; I just wanted to give you a chance to...huh..." He trailed off again, re-reading the note.

"What?!"

He finally looked up at her, grinning as he pulled the paper out of her reach a second before she made the grab. "Nothing. Just finishing it. You want to admit anything to me yet?"

"No."

"Fair enough. He goes on: _And move they did, with all due speed. I never told Maggie she had to tell you that very night, but because she did, and because a promise is a promise, I'll make good on mine to her._ 'That very night'? Which would be last night, right? You're sure you don't have something you'd like to admit? Before I finish reading this card?"

She had the decency to hesitate this time, he noticed, but she held fast. "Fleischman, I have no idea what you mean."

"You're the stubbornest person I've ever met. And I love you. Fine. He says next, _Finally, my apologies that I can't express any of this personally but, as Maggie can attest, I was already running late when I came to her last night_ \- ." He looked pointedly over the top of the card as he said those words. She only shrugged, so he continued. "- _The timing is never what one would like with such things. I was sure you would have heard by now of my passing, since I know you had the good sense to call your mother first with your news._"

She pointed at him triumphantly. "See? Common knowledge. You call your mom right away with big news."

"O'Connell. Tell me. Please? He came to you? Last night? Come on; there's no use trying to convince me at this point. He says it outright in this letter."

"You think that letter was penned by the man who your mom said died? Who you also think visited me last night, prompting us to get married today? You suddenly believe in ghosts, do you? Pen pal ghosts?"

"No, but..."

"But nothing. Finish the card."

"I can't believe you still won't admit it. Okay, _Maggie wanted a glimpse of your future together - the happy one awaiting you, after seeing where you had been headed before._" They'd reached the elevator, and he reached forward to punch the call button. "What, did you finally strangle me to death or something?"

"You went back home to New York. Without me. We never saw each other again." She smiled with sad eyes before leaning forward to wipe away a non-existing crumb from his shirt.

He gave her a rueful smile and caught her hand with his. "Aha. So that's what was behind all of this, huh? Couldn't face life without me, huh, O'Connell? I love you, too." He tried to kiss her but she turned her head.

"You're the one who's nuts, Fleischman. I am not."

"I told you, I believe you about this. You heard that, right?"

"I don't care whether you believe me or not. I'm not admitting to delusional behavior. Especially to you."

"Technically, if you are seeing people who aren't there, it's hallucinatory, not delusional. Medically speaking, I mean." Her glare made him quickly change tone. "Okay. I realize that wasn't helpful."

"Just finish reading."

He nodded and gave her hand a squeeze as the elevator chimed and opened. "Let's see..._So when you reach the elevator, if you press the button for the 14th floor, it will take you to a point in your future of my choosing. Stay as long as you like and observe. As with last night, you won't be seen. To leave it, find the nearest elevator and press 2 to come back here. Take care of each other. Shalom._ He can really show us the future?"

Maggie nodded, giving up the charade she knew she'd lost. "Yeah. He never did that with you?"

"No. But doing that sounds like one hell of a honeymoon." Joel leaned forward to push 14 when Maggie pulled his hand back. "What?

She leaned past him and pressed the button for the lobby instead.

"Really? You're not even a little curious to see what happens? I mean, we did promise 'til death' about and hour ago, but with our history, that doesn't necessarily mean a long time from now."

"We'll be fine. Relatively speaking."

"How so you know?"

"Just do. And anyway," she said, the look in her eyes turning predatory. "I'll give you a glimpse of your immediate future right now. After dinner, we'll be right back here doing something like this..." She kissed him, pressing against him until he was against the wall of the elevator.

The bell rang, announcing their arrival at the lobby, and she pulled back. "C'mon, Fleischman," she said, tugging on his hand. "I don't want to talk about the future anymore. I want to hear more about this track team stint of yours. I don't believe that for one second, you realize?"

"Okay. As soon as you explain why you've lied about your college major for a decade."

She turned around so abruptly she almost ran into him trailing along behind her. "Did he tell you that? Was that in the letter, too?"

"No. But I have my ways."

"What else did he tell you?" She reached for the letter in his pocket, evading his efforts to keep it from her, pulling it back triumphantly and unfolding it.

"Huh." She turned it over in her hands.

"What?"

"All the writing is gone" She held it up to him, and he pulled it quickly into view. "It's blank."

"It wasn't 2 minutes ago! I swear, O'Connell." He grabbed it from her. "No, see there's something here. It's just... it's not what it said before. And I know what I saw. It changed." They exchanged a long look.

"Well," she said finally. "What's it say now?"

He grinned at her. "It just says one line - _If, however, the past is more of interest, press the button for the 10th floor. I'll take you each anywhere you want and return you here._ Anywhere in the past, huh?" His grin got more mischievous. "Well, I know exactly what I want to see."

"Me too," she said, almost confrontationally. "Why? What's yours?"

"What's yours?"

"I'm not saying. Guess you'll just have to be surprised."

He took her hand. "Well, what are we waiting for, honey?" They turned and hurried back to the elevator bay, pressing the call button several times each.

"While we're still sorting this whole relationship thing out, 'honey' is also a name I did not acquire simply as a result of marrying you, Fleischman."

The elevator arrived and he followed her into it and pushed the button for 10.

"Really? No pet names, either? What am I supposed to call you?"

"By my name, like you always have. I am not your 'pet' Fleischman..."

"I have another name I could call you, you know."

"And I have a whole host of things I could call you. And have. So let's just stick to our names, shall we?"

"Okay...sweetheart."

"Fleischman!"

They door closed as the sound of their flirtatious arguing faded, and an older man clad in a charcoal gray suit and pocket square smiled fondly at them from the lobby over the top of his newspaper.


End file.
